


Ain't No Rest for the Wicked

by Among_Walkers_and_Angels



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, F/M, Irish, Italian Mafia, Romance, Vigilantism, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 14:30:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/639843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Among_Walkers_and_Angels/pseuds/Among_Walkers_and_Angels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My name is Annie May McNeil - Yakavetta. My father, Guiseppe "Papa Joe" Yakavetta, is one of the most well known, feared, Mafia Dons in the city of Boston Massachusetts. He took from my home in Ireland when I was only seven years old. Raising me as his own after he ordered my family, the only family I had ever known, to be murdered. Using me to his advantage as he saw fit, as I grew into my teenage years.</p>
<p>But you see, he made a mistake somewhere down the line. A very large one in fact. He left me with people who taught me how to handle guns and weapons, and even allowed me to go out and witness a few "hits", from time to time. Giving me the power to turn everything off, and become a killer myself. </p>
<p>I may not always act on the feelings that lie dormant somewhere deep with in me. But somewhere beneath my hard, tough, yet scared exterior...lies a killer. And what my father doesn't know, won't kill him...or maybe it will?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ain't No Rest for the Wicked

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note: So the idea for a Boondock Saints story came to me yesterday, and I spent all afternoon working on the first chapter. I know it's probably not the best, compared to some of the other great Boondock Saints stories out there. But I thought it would be nice to put up one of my own, since I love the movies so much. :) And if you want an idea of what Annie looks like, look up Christina Grimmie. With darker hair. That's who the character is portrayed by. I don't know how to put in a link to the pic, sorry. :( And it also helps if you read the Dialog parts between those that are Irish, with and Irish accent in your head...
> 
> As always, I do not own The Boondock Saints movie or anything from it that I use. It does follow the first movie obviously, but with my own personal twist on it. So the only things I own are the original story line that I created and my original characters. 
> 
> Also, I don't know how accurate any of the Italian or Irish Gaelic will be if I use it. Considering I don't speak either, I use google translate, but we all know it's not always right. So please don't get made if it doesn't translate correctly. Or if you know it, maybe leave me a comment with what it should actually be. I'm always open to criticism. :)

# Chapter 1: Jumper

"Dove stai andando?" Her father questioned sternly in Italian as she passed by the door to his office. She sighed loudly.   
(Where are you going?)

"Out." She replied in English, not even bothering to stop as she continued along the hall and down the stairs. Managing to dodge a few of her fathers men as she ducked out the door, leaving the ginormous mansion she called her _"home"_ , behind. Walking for what seemed like forever until she found her self somewhere in South Boston; a place she visited a lot, considering it was an Irish neighborhood. Made her feel like she was home in Ireland where she belonged. Not stuck in some Boston hell hole with her bastard Mafia Don of a father.

The pubs in South Boston were a place she went to get away from everything. Life, work, and her job as her fathers personal weapons dealer. But that wasn't the case tonight as she sat up on the ledge of a rooftop that belonged to an old abandon building across from a local Irish pub, that she'd actually never been inside before, drinking a Guinness from the six pack that sat beside her.

"What the hell're ye doin' with yer life?" She whispered, taking a drag off her cigarette, exhaling the smoke out her mouth and nose as she stared up at the night sky. "Ma would be so disappointed."

Her eyes stung with the threat of tears as she thought back to her family. Her real family. The ones who had raised her from birth. Her ma and her step-dad, and several step-siblings, two sisters and a brother. She was just your average seven year old when she was ripped away from everything she once knew and loved.

Her biological father, having sent his men to retrieve his _daughter_ , demanding she be in her rightful place with the rest of the Yakavette family in Boston, even if she was half Irish. Supposedly murdering her family after she was torn away from them in a matter of seconds; but that she had never managed to figure out for sure.

Twenty-five years old now, she found herself to be the most unhappy person in her life that she had ever met. And being part of a Mafia family she had met quite a few unhappy people in her time spent state side, especially women. But she grew more tired of her father controlling her life everyday, trying to make her become like them. Even though females didn't have much of a say in anything when it came to living life in a Mafia family. But she had proved her worth by knowing a good deal about weapons, thanks to some of the nicer men that worked for her father that she hung around while growing up. Her father eventually making her their personal weapons dealer for his so called family business.

She gave a snort at the very thought of being stuck in this way of living for the rest of her life, glancing over the ledge of the building she sat on briefly. She had the power to end everything, right here and now. But in the end, would anyone really miss her? She doubted it.

Her father didn't really love her, he just loved using her to his advantage to get his way with deals on weapons and hits against other mob groups. It was always good to have an attractive daughter in this business...helps a lot apparently. She cringed as memories of things her father had made her do to make him more money flashed through her mind. But she shook them off as she pushed herself up, peering over the ledge as she took a deep breath. Her hands started to shake violently as she looked down to the seemingly deserted Boston street below, balling them into fists as she closed her eyes. A shaky breath leaving her lips as she wiped her clammy palms against her jeans. Now was a really poor time to develop a fear of heights.

Was this what it was really going to come to? Standing on the rooftop of some random building in South Boston, contemplating if her life was ever worth living anymore or if she even had the courage to actually jump? Wondering where it had all gone wrong?

"Oh yeah, yer father's part of the Mafia, that's where." She mumbled to herself with a frown. Everything was gone thanks to him. She swallowed hard as she glanced down again.

"I know I ain't really the religious type..." She cleared her throat quietly as she stared up at the night sky, in hopes that someone up there was listening. "But if ye' can hear me...jus' please...tell me what'ta do?" Edging a foot closer to the ledge, as she peeked down again, drawing in another deep breath. She really needed to know if by doing this, she'd be making the right choice. "I'm beggin' ye."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Conner and his brother Murphy stepped out of McGinty's bar after having a few drinks. Blowing off some steam after a hard day of working at the meat packing plant. Conner's nether regions still feeling sensitive, thanks to the crazy bitch they were assigned to train who had kicked him after a comment he thought was actually rather amusing. He cringed at the memory but he was quickly brought back to reality as Murph tapped his shoulder, pointing up at one of the old abandon buildings where a girl stood on the ledge.

"Ah shit." He sighed as he looked up. "I guess, we can' let tha' happen now, can we Murph?" He spoke with a thick Irish accent as he frowned up at the girl. _"Dumbass"_ "I know I ain't really the religious type," She clearly had some Irish in her from the faint accent that slipped past her lips as she spoke quietly up at the night sky. _"But if ye' can hear me...jus' please...tell me what'ta do."_ She shuffled closer to the edge, peering over before taking a deep breath. _"I'm beggin'ye."_

Connor and Murphy both exchanged glances before turning their attention back to the woman in front of them.

"I'd go wit' not jumpin' fer starters." The sound of Murphy's voice breaking the silence on the rooftop startling her enough that she lost her footing in the process of turning around, starting to fall, letting out something between a gasp and a strangled scream in the process. Luckily for her though the boys were within reaching distance, grabbing hold of her arms and yanking her back onto the rooftop before she could fall too her death.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Oh'my god." She cried out, closing her eyes and doing the sign of the cross before she stared up at the two men that stood over her. The men that had just saved her from a death she wasn't even really sure she wanted yet. "Thank'ye lord!" Her heart hammered against her ribs so hard she thought it would jump out at any second. "I swear I'll start goin'ta church again fer'tha one." The brothers chuckled but felt confused at the same time as they stared down at the young woman that lay on the ground.

"Yer welcome." The boys replied in unison.

"But if ye don't mind me askin'," The slightly lighter haired one started.

"Why were ye up here if ye didn't want'ta actually jump?" The second man finished, crossing his arms over his chest as she sat up, placing her head in her hands.

"Long story." She groaned.

"I think we got time." The first man chuckled as he and the other man, who she assumed to be his brother judging by the resemblance, grabbed her arms and hauled to her feet. Leading her down off the roof and across the street to McGinty's Pub. The very same pub she'd been staring at earlier, remembering how she'd never actually been there before.

"Back already b- b- bb- boys? The old bartender stuttered out as he stared at the two men and their new acquaintance, who they still held onto. Even though she had no intentions of going anywhere.

"Aye, got our'selves a wanna'be jumper." The lighter haired one chuckled as he pointed to a bar stool. "Sit lass."

"She got a name?" Another man asked from the other side of him, she glanced to her left. He was Italian, she knew this because he worked for her father. His messenger boy, so to speak. She turned her head, silently praying he didn't have any clue as to who she was. The last thing she wanted was to be recognized.

"Would assume so." The second man, who sat to her right replied, glancing down at her with a questioning look. She raised an eyebrow in question as she stared back into his light blue eyes, forgetting momentarily what they were implying. "Spit 'er out then."

"I- 'er...Annie." She stumbled over her words. "Annie McNeill." Giving her mothers last name instead of the wretched one her father had made her use for years...what her mother ever saw in that man-

"Nice te' meet ye lass. T-They c- cc- call me- Fuck! Ass!" Annie had to bite her tongue as a laugh threatened to escape from her throat. Not knowing these people, she didn't know if it would be rude or not. And her ma hadn't raised her to rude. Her ma had raised her up to be a proper lady.

"Doc, ye' can call 'im Doc." The lighter haired man chuckled. "I'm Connor, that's me brother Murph and this arsehole here, is Rocco." Connor spoke, grabbing the longer haired Italian man in a headlock as he ground his knuckles into the top of the mans head.

"Pleasure'ta meet ya." She responded quietly, taking a small sip from the beer Doc, the bartender, had placed in front of her.

"Now, ye' gonna tell us why ye was up 'der in the first place?" Connor questioned as he looked at the young woman with genuine concern. She swallowed hard under his steady, slightly darker blue compared to his brothers, gaze.

"I don' suppose ye'd take enjoying the view fer an answer...would ye?" She replied skeptically, but with a hint of sarcasm to her tone. The boys laughed.

"No!" They chorused with laughter. She frowned.

"Look 'er lass, we're not judgin' ye by any means. We jus' want'ta know what ye was doin' up there lookin' like ya was gonna jump." Connor reassured.

"Exactly." His brother, Murphy, agreed." Jus' curious is all." Smoke rolled out of his mouth and nose as he finished, exhaling from the drag he had just taken off his cigarette.

Annie swallowed hard. She really wasn't about to explain away her life's story away to these men. How she was the daughter of one of Boston's most feared Mafia Dons, who had taken her from her home back in Ireland when she was only seven and raised her as his own and using her to his advantage once she was old enough.

"Family problems, is all." She replied quietly. The brothers eyed her suspiciously but gave a nod anyway, deciding they weren't gonna push her to talk about it she didn't want too. If that was the case, they had a better approach.

"Why don' ye bring us some shots Doc?" Murphy suggested, polishing off the rest of his Guinness before pushing the empty glass aside as he glanced over at his brother.

"So, ye from a 'round here?" He asked, glancing down at the dark haired woman who was currently glaring at the bar. Her soft features making it look impossibly adorable. He suppressed a laugh. Clearing his throat instead when she didn't answer.

"Oh er...yeah." She replied. "I work as a artist an' private photographer." That wasn't a lie at least. She did sell the art she drew or painted, and she did work as a private photographer in her spare time when she wasn't dealing weapons...though only mostly for her fathers clients and the families of the men who worked for him.

"Sounds nice." Connor nodded in approval before downing a shot. "Better then workin' at a meat packin' plant." Mumbling the last part.

"And gettin' yer balls kicked in'ta yer throat." Murphy chuckled with a smirk as his brother glared over at him.

"Shut'it!" Connor warned as he pointed a finger at his brother. "I'm only warnin' ye once."

"Jus' sayin'." Murph replied. "Least I didn' get me arse kicked by freckin' girl." He snorted at the look of annoyance on his brothers face.

"Tha' was not a woman; and if it were...I demand'ta see some papers!" Connor replied defensively, downing another shot and ignoring the soft muffled sounds of laughter coming from the girl to his right.

"Somethin' funny lass?" Connor cocked an eyebrow as he looked down at her, glaring playfully. Her blue-green eyes widening slightly as she shook her head...a hint of fear hidden somewhere beneath her seemingly guarded expression. He let his face soften a bit, knowing good and well that there was a lot more to this girl than she was clearly letting on too. Not that he could blame her, I mean she didn't even know them. They had just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

Downing a shot of her own, she listened to their conversations for a while. A few other men having wandered in for some drinks. It was Saint Patty's day after all, but the thing she found the strangest was the group made up of three Russian men came in, demanding they all leave and for Doc to stay. Feeling confused as she watched Connor and Murph try to reason with the head Russian...who was having no part of their Irish shenanigans obviously, which she found oddly amusing. A bad feeling was forming in the pit of her stomach though. A fight breaking out shortly after the biggest of the three men, Ivan, laid Rocco out in one punch.

"Shit!" She mumbled as she started for the door, not wanting any part of a being in a bar fight. She was stopped dead in her tracks though as someones fist connected with the side of her jaw.

"You not goin anyver." One of the Russian men growled as he grabbed a fist full of her dark hair. She yelped loudly, turning and bringing her knee to the mans crotch as she kicked him in the balls, dropping him to his knees, releasing her hair in the process.

"Ya know? I was plannin' ta leave...but now I think I'll stay so I can kick yer arse!" Her knee connected with the mans face as she ended her sentence. Dropping him all the way to the ground as he held his face as the fight raged on around them. Connor and Murphy exchanging shocked looks as they watched this girl hold her own against these men. There was definitely a lot she wasn't letting onto.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Ow!" Murphy pulled his hand back as Annie reached out to smack it away. He was becoming increasingly annoyed by her non-cooperative attitude at the moment. It was somewhere around three in the morning and the boys had brought her back to their apartment, offering her a place to stay since she wasn't really in any shape to go out on her own.

"Stop yer fussin'!" He barked, going back to trying to clean the cut on her cheek. Her lower lip jutting out slightly in a sort of pout, causing him to smirk slightly. "I mean fer Christs sake, ye can take gettin' punch in the face but ye can't handle me cleanin' a tiny cut?"

"Tha' ain't no cut...tha's a fuckin' gash. An' to be honest, it fuckin' burns!" She snapped. "At leas' bein' punched stops hurtin' after a while." She mumbled as she shifted the bag of ice on her left cheek and jaw area. Watching while Murphy dug around what first aid supplies they had on hand for something to hold the wound closed on her right, coming back with a couple butterfly bandages.

"Aye, sorry ye got caught in the middle of tha'." He apologized, gently placing the small band-aids over the wound. "But I got'ta say, I'm impressed...never seen a girl hold'er own like that be'for."

"Grew up in'a rough family." She shrugged...not really a lie. "My father was never exactly the lovely dovey, tell ye bedtime stories "type."" She air quoted. "He was more so the, rule with an iron fist "type"." Murphy frowned at her answer. Him and Connor's father was absent their entire life, still was...but if their ma had taught them anything, it was that no man should ever lay hand on a lady...not that he had room to talk today.

"Ye still live wit' him? Ye'r da?" He asked, moving Annie's hand that held the ice away from her face gently so he could attend to her battered knuckles. She nodded in response, flinching lightly as he dabbed the peroxide drenched cotton ball across the cuts.

"Haven' exactly de'cided if I'm goin' back'er not." She frowned. "Sort'a tired of him controllin' my life."

"From what ye said be'for, I can't say I blame ya." Murphy mumbled, pausing for a second trying to decide if he wanted to ask his next question or not. "What about yer ma?" He asked cautiously, glancing up to make eye contact briefly, regretting that he'd asked as he caught a glimpse of the sadness behind her colorful blue eyes.

"She uh...she passed away when I was seven." He watched as she swallowed hard, her eyes glistening with tears. She was clearly trying not to get emotional.

"Sorry...I didn' mean to upset ye." He apologized sincerely, feeling like an ass for upsetting her. It was obviously a touchy subject. But he couldn't help but feel like there was something missing from it. Like she was holding apart of everything she said back. Murphy didn't push the issue though.

"No worries." Shrugging with a forced half smile, she took the bottle of peroxide from his hands as he finished attending to her own. Feeling it to only be polite to return the favor. "Ye didn' know." Clearing her throat awkwardly, breaking eye contact as she focused on cleaning the cuts on his hands. Catching sight of his tattoo and smiling slightly.

"Wha'?" He asked.

"Nothin'." She chuckled. "I jus' find it a lil amusing tha' I have the same tattoo on my shoulder." Murphy cocked an eyebrow as he looked at her.

"Really now?" He asked, watching her nod with an actual smile for once. Not that fake excuse of one she wore normally.

"My ma use to actually have a sign tha' hung above our door with, _'Veritas Aequitas'_ carved into'it. My step-da was a police man...he actually made it himself." Her smile quickly vanishing as she sighed. "I remember 'im tellin' me wha' it meant...jus' always stuck I guess." She shrugged. "Got 'em tattooed on me shoulders when I was sixteen."

"Aye, it's a nice choice." Murphy replied awkwardly, not really knowing how else to answer to what she had just told him. She hadn't mentioned anything about a step-father.

"Seemed fittin'." Annie shrugged. "Their deaths weren't exactly right." Looking up at Murphy with a frown, her eyebrows pulling together as anger flashed through her eyes briefly. "They was murdered in cold blood...an' lord knows tha' ain't right." She whispered.

"Hence the _"Truth an' Justice"_ tattoos I take it?" Connor's voice drew their attention as he walked into the room, having showered and gotten himself cleaned up, plopping down on his bed as he stared at his brother and Annie sitting at the little table in the corner. She nodded, screwing the cap back on the bottle of peroxide as she set it aside. Murphy thanking her before handing her a clean pair of boxer shorts, one of his shirts and a towel before showing her to the bathroom so she could finish cleaning up.

"There's somethin' odd abo'ut tha' girl." Connor whispered quietly as his brother sat down on his own bed to take off his boots, nodding in agreement.

"Aye, like there's somethin' she ain't lettin' onto." Murphy added. Talking quietly with his brother as he filled him in on everything Annie had told him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Drying off after her shower, she threw on the shorts, her bra and the wife-beater Murphy had given her to sleep in...even though she had no idea where she was sleeping since there was only two bed. Meaning she was probably sharing with someone considering she didn't see the brothers spooning so she could have a bed to herself. Though it was an amusing thought.

Folding up her bar fight tattered clothes as neatly as should could manage with sore hands, she opened the door to the makeshift shower room and made her way back out into the main room where the boys sat talking. Throwing her a friendly smile as she set her stuff on the table, standing there sort of awkwardly as they stared at her.

"Nice clothes." Connor chuckled before laying down. Grunting when Murphy threw his boot at him. Clipping him in the side of the head before bouncing back too the floor.

"Ye can stay in my bed." Murphy stated as he stood up. "Floor ain't exactly comfor'table...and I wouldn' be tha' heartless and force ye to share a bed wit' that." Ducking as his brother picked up and threw his boot back at him.

"Tha' was jus' rude." Connor snorted. "But he's got'ta point...don' care much fer sharin'." He winked before rolling over to go to sleep. Annie took a seat on Murphy's bed, thanking him for being so kind before he went to take a shower himself. Laying down she closed her eyes, waiting for sleep, but knowing it wouldn't come. So instead she took to laying there until Murphy came back, hoping that would help.

"I swear'ta god if ye sleep on that floor, I'll smother ya while you sleep!" She grumbled, stopping him from attempting to make a bed on the concrete floor.

"Don' worry 'bout-"

"I'm serious." She cut him off, opening her eyes groggily to stare at him through the darkness. "The two of ye have been nice 'nough to clean me up an' lemme stay here. Ye don' have'ta completely give up yer bed. I don' mind sharin'...unlike yer brother."

"I heard'dat." Connor mumbled sleepily. Murphy rolled his eyes, but didn't argue nevertheless as he laid down next to Annie. Silently thanking her for not making him sleep on the hard uncomfortable floor.

"Goodnigh'." She yawned, rolling over as she slowly started to drift off.

"Night." The brothers replied in unison, before slowly drifting of themselves. Not knowing the surprise that tomorrow would have in store for them.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I hope it's not to terrible? I don't consider myself to be the best writer in the world, but when something comes to me that I think has potential to be good, I usually take the time to post to see what people think. So feedback would be lovely. :) My apologies for any mistakes by the way. I don't have a decent word program on my computer.
> 
> **Chapter title:** _Third Eye Blind- Jumper_


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